


An Unconventional Union

by Verai



Series: Desperate Desire [6]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 02:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20184859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai/pseuds/Verai
Summary: You told Arthur he had to take responsibility. It was your teasing way of asking him to marry you. You didn’t expect anything; just a small ceremony at the church, but fate had other plans. (Part of the Fortnight of Falling arc.)





	An Unconventional Union

**Author's Note:**

> This starts right after A Reason To Return.

The smell of bacon and eggs wafting through your small cabin made your stomach growl. You finally got up and washed up, putting some clothes on before plopping down at your small square table. A plate of food was placed in front of you, and you ate ravenously.

“Hungry, kitten?” Arthur chuckled as he tousled your hair.

You moved your head out of his reach and grunted an affirmative as you shoved the last bit of egg into your mouth. Then you looked up at him and noticed he hadn’t made any food for himself. 

“What about you?”

“I’ll git some food later, just wanted to watch you for a bit,” he said as he tenderly pet your head.

You looked away, feeling shy about his intense fixation with you, and got up to take the plate to the sink. He took it away from you and kissed your cheek.

“So, should we go down to the church today?”

He was wearing just his work pants, black as night, and nothing else. You really wanted to just drag him to bed again as you watched him wash your dish and fork.

“Um, today?” you asked instead.

He smiled. “You told me to take responsibility for ya. Might as well do it today.”

You sputtered. You weren’t a fancy lady by a long shot, but you at least wanted a wedding dress. And perhaps some time to really think about what you were doing. “Could I get a dress first? And maybe we should let the pastor know before we just show up all of a sudden?”

Arthur dried your dish and fork and put them away, biding his time before responding, purposely making you wait. You shuffled on your feet, impatient for an answer, not knowing why you bothered to ask for permission.

Finally, he turned towards you as he spoke. “Sure, you can get a dress. I’ll go tell the pastor.”

“R-right now?”

Arthur was picking up his clothes and putting them on. “Why not?”

“I have work!  _ You  _ have work! Can’t it wait until my next day off?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He sauntered up to you and poked you gently in the cheek. “But only because you asked.”

***

The week passed slowly, with Arthur still escorting you home every evening, and still letting you have your nights to yourself, even though he’d give you that heated gaze whenever he said good night. Every night, he’d ask you if you’d picked up a dress yet.

“No, not yet,” you’d reply, and he’d raise an eyebrow but said nothing more about the subject.

That was, until the evening before your next day off. The evening before the big day.

“You need a dress,” he stated as you left the doctor’s office.

You merely nodded, falling into step next to him as he walked with you to his horse. You couldn’t deny that you were still putting it off.

“So, I got you one.”

You did a double take and gaped at him.

“I’m sure it fits.” 

His confident tone and the twinkle in his eyes made you raise an eyebrow at him as you got onto his horse, him following you up.

He just smiled mysteriously as he took you home.

***

You stood in your cabin, a little concerned that Arthur knew how to get into your house without your key, and stared at the white dress that was laid out on the bed. It was simple, an A-line dress with bell shaped sleeves and an illusion neckline in white lace. 

You strained to find fault with it, to find a reason to tell him to take it back. But you couldn’t.

You loved it.

“You sure this will fit me?” you asked tentatively, unwilling to believe in something so perfect.

“Try it on for me.”

You glared at him. “The moment I take my clothes off, I won’t get a chance to try it on.”

Arthur tried to look affronted, but there was a twitch in his lips that gave away his amusement. “You doubt my self-control?”

“Have you given me a reason not to?” you said with a sardonic grin.

He tilted his head back and forth as he considered your words. “I guess I can’t argue with that.” He stepped away from you and tipped his hat. “In that case, I’ll leave you to it, my lady. Meet me at the church, tomorrow at noon.”

You watched him leave your cabin, both apprehensive and excited.

Excited because you were really getting married tomorrow.

Apprehensive because life never went this smoothly for this long without consequences.

***

You stood in the doorway and stared outside, the rain falling like a veritable curtain of water, keeping you from leaving your cabin easily. Sighing deeply, you went back inside and searched for your rain cape and umbrella. Finding them, you set them next to the door and pulled out one of your shabbier blouses and skirts. If you had to go out in the rain, you wouldn't ruin your wedding dress. 

You had put on the dress in the morning and it fit wonderfully, as if Arthur had known every curve, every dip of your body. He knew it too well, you thought, for him to get this dress so well tailored without you there. You twirled around in your cabin, loving the feel of it against your legs and skin, imagining yourself a beautiful princess for just a second before you heard the thunder. And then the rain came with little preamble, washing away your chances for a sunny walk into town in your lovely dress.

“Guess I’ll put this on when I get there,” you mumbled to your poor dress, and started to take it off carefully to shove into a suitcase so you could bring it to the church.

A knock on your door startled you. You weren't even halfway out of your dress yet, so you slipped it back on. Cautiously walking to the door, tentatively holding the handle, you called out. 

“Who’s there?”

“Arthur.”

Opening the door, you were surprised to see him standing before you, wearing a heavy coat that was soaking wet.

“Get in here,” you ordered, and he quickly came in and peeled off his drenched jacket and hung it on the chair, moving it closer to the fireplace. Then he threw a couple pieces of wood into the fireplace and lit it with a match from your mantle.

“I thought I was meeting you at the church,” you said, watching him take off his boots.

“Saw the rain comin’. Told the pastor we’d come by next week and came straight here. Knowin’ you, you woulda forced yourself through the storm to keep yer word.”

You smiled wryly. He  _ did  _ know you.

He started to take off his pants and overshirt, and you quickly went to grab a towel to dry him off. Helping him lay out his wet clothes on the table and lifting it closer to the fireplace as well, the two of you looked at each other, him in just his short drawers and you in a wedding dress. 

At the same time, you both started laughing.

“Some weddin’, huh?”

“Some wedding, indeed.”

Arthur, with the towel wrapped around his shoulders, took your hands and kissed them tenderly.

“We could just say our vows now.”

“I d-don’t know what to say,” you stammered.

“Just say somethin’ from the heart.”

“Y-you first.”

Arthur chuckled. “Alright, kitten.” He stepped forward and held your face in his big, warm hands. He kissed your forehead. Then the tip of your nose. And both your cheeks.

“I’ll always come for you. Through rain or snow, through anythin' that gets in my way, I’ll come when you call fer me.”

You swallowed, the emotion in his eyes threatening to overwhelm you. Your heart pounded so loudly that you could feel it trying to burst from your chest. 

He waited patiently for you to say something. But you couldn’t think of anything. Words were lost to you. So you communicated with him the way you always did when you found it hard to speak.

You pressed your forehead against his, and entwined your fingers with his, moving them from your face to your heart. Together, the two of you took deep, quiet breaths, feeling your heartbeat against his hands. 

“This,” you finally said in barely a whisper. “This will always be yours.”

Arthur’s smile was warm and gentle, like he was being blessed with the most beautiful thing in the world. He leaned in and kissed you, one hand returning to your face as his other arm wrapped around you and pulled you against him.

“Be a shame to ruin this dress,” he muttered.

“Guess I better put it away for safekeeping.”

“Maybe I can help ya with that.”

“Maybe.”

Arthur reached for the front buttons, undoing them slowly as he looked into your eyes as a covetous heat grew in his gaze. You swallowed, your hands clinging to his forearms as he worked his way down, down, until he got on one knee before you to undo the remaining few buttons, the last one ending right over your lower belly. He pulled you close and kissed you right below your belly button; you could feel the heat of his lips through the thin fabric of your chemise.

Then he stood up, clasped the collar of your dress, and leisurely pulled it off your shoulders and let it fall from your body, revealing your cute white chemise; it was simple, elegant, and a bit shorter than usual, ending at your knees. Arthur’s hands skimmed your hips. His eyebrows rose when he didn’t feel any drawers beneath the fabric.

“That all yer wearin’?”

You smiled shyly. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Oh, kitten,” he moaned as he wrapped his arms around you and carried you to the bed. Falling upon you, he kissed you passionately, grinding himself against you as his hands gripped you tightly, holding you like he wanted to melt into you. Feeling how ready he was to take you, your hips lifted, wanting to feel that sublime connection to him.

He got up from you just long enough to drop his drawers before grabbing the front of your chemise.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he rumbled before he tore your garment open, exposing your body to his eager gaze.

“Arthur!”

He murmured your name before he stole your lips and pinned you to the bed, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet folds, rolling his hips back and forth to tease you. You angled your hips and spread your legs to let him in, and he took your invitation, lifting up slightly and nudging you open. He slowly sank inside of you, both of you moaning, intoxicated by the feel of your physical joining. 

“Yer all mine now, Mrs. Morgan.” He thrust hard into you. “My darlin’ wife.”

Arthur started to pound you into the bed, unable to control his movements as he lost himself in your arms, nearly crushing you under the weight of him. He held you close and rutted like a ravenous creature, letting out almost inhuman growls as he grabbed your breasts and squeezed. Bending over you, he licked and pinched your nipples; it was almost too rough for you. You winced.

“Sorry darlin’,” he whispered, letting go of your bruised flesh to hold your hips. “You’re so strong, I forget how delicate you really are.” His pace gentled, taking your thighs and folding you over so he could reach a different angle as he took you slower, deeper. He thumbed your clit, watching your eyes roll back as he stroked you. The pleasure kept building and building until it burst, with you screaming his name as you climaxed around him, your walls clenching around his length.

“So perfect.” Arthur crushed you once more, letting your legs wrap around his waist as he took you faster and faster, his breath in your ear, his moans like sweet music until he shouted your name as he thrust hard all of a sudden and stayed as deep as he could, his hips making little jerky movements as he pumped his seed inside of you.

“Mine,” he breathed, holding you tight as the last of his ecstasy ebbed away. You clung to him, a happy fog surrounding you as the euphoria gave way to a feeling of contentment, like you had finally found your home. 

Finally, he rolled over and cuddled you. Half-asleep, he nuzzled your cheek.

“I hope we have a son,” he mumbled as he fell asleep beside you.

***

“I liked that chemise.”

“I said I’d buy you a new one.”

“Yes, but I liked  _ that  _ one.”

Arthur got up on one elbow to look directly at you. “You ever goin’ ta forgive me?”

You turned your head and gave him a gimlet stare. “You’re the kind of person to ask for forgiveness rather than permission, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t git anythin’ done otherwise.”

You laughed, thoroughly amused by him. “Mr. Morgan, whatever will I do with you?”

He tenderly smiled at you. “I dunno, Mrs. Morgan.” He kissed you lightly on the lips, a sweet, innocent kiss born out of a moment of pure love. “But I’ll spend forever makin’ it up to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had to watch 4 episodes of Queer Eye to get all the happy feels inside of my soul to write this. You’re welcome.


End file.
